Sunday, June 10, 2007

It started with choir practice. Our concert is next Saturday, the 16th, so of course we’re having as many practices as we can, to get ready. Practice is supposed to be 10–12 Saturday mornings. Unfortunately, not a single person was on time, today. Not. One. Single. Person. This was not a good way to start the day.

After that, we went to the dentist. I was pretty worried about this. Not that I’m normally worried about the dentist—I’ve never had a cavity, and trips to the dentist are usually pretty uneventful—but I haven’t been to a dentist in over three years, so I was afraid that there would be some problems. Luckily, my fears were unfounded, and my teeth were fine. Maybe a bit stained, but no cavities or anything. The interesting thing, though, was when the hygienist suggested that I get braces. My front teeth stick out—a lot—so she suggested that I might want to get them straightened. They don’t need to be straightened, it would be purely a visual thing, but she put the bug in my ear.

Normally, I wouldn’t give it any thought at all, and would probably consider it a vanity to get my teeth straightened. We’re too self-conscious, in North America, about piddly little things like that. On the other hand, I have to admit, I am self-conscious about them. Especially this week; I was watching a video, in the last couple of days, of me talking, and I was watching the way that I have to specifically talk around my teeth, and it made me very self-conscious about them. I’ve always known that they look… off, but I didn’t realize how much so. So, I’m not saying that I’ll get braces, but it’s on my mind, and I’m going to give it some thought.

After we left the dentist, Andrea and I were in the car, heading to get her hair cut, and having a detailed discussion about the possibility of me getting braces, when we got in an accident. Now, let me stress, for the record: It wasn’t my fault. I’ve been in numerous accidents, most of which have been my fault, but this one wasn’t. We were driving through an intersection, on the green light, and there was a car turning left. For some reason, she decided to go while we were still in the intersection, and she hit the back of my car. (Pictured below.)

It was bizarre, because I don’t know what she could have been thinking. It was obvious she couldn’t go, and yet, for some reason, I guess she thought she could. She even hesitated a bit, as if she wasn’t sure of herself. I tried to swerve out of the way—which might have helped—but not enough to avoid her altogether. As she hit me, I could hear the crunching, the scraping, and the broken glass, and I knew it was going to be a good amount of damage. But then, when I got out of the car, and looked at the damage, there wasn’t any! Well, there was a big scrape, along the back panel, but other than that, no damage. Not even a tail light that was out. (And, frankly, with the rust on the hood of my car, an extra scrape on the back isn’t really a big deal.) We went back and looked at her car, and her front headlight was smashed out, which explained some of the sounds I’d been hearing, during the accident.

Of course, we decided not to bother with insurance, as there wasn’t anything to fix on my car, and the cost of fixing her light would have been less than the deductible she’d be paying anyway. Possibly the strangest thing about the accident is that the woman who was driving the other car wasn’t really sure what had happened. She was even wondering, at one point, who’s fault it might have been, but Andrea was having none of that, thank you very much. It was pretty obvious who’s fault it was, and she made no bones about it. (She wasn’t impolite, of course. She just didn’t let the woman keep any false pretenses about what had happened.)

After this, we continued on our merry way to get Andrea’s hair cut. I decided to get mine cut, too, while we were there, and I could have swore that there was something worth writing about, from the hair cut, but I’m not remembering what it was. It probably wasn’t important. (Not like all of the other stuff I’ve written about, eh?)

Not much happened after we got home. Except that I got a call from James, from Jeremy’s house. Apparently all of my friends back home are rip-roaring drunk, and wanted to let me know that they’re having fun without me. Jerks. (Actually, they probably weren’t that drunk. At least, most of them. And by the time you read this, I doubt any of them will be drunk anymore.) While I was on the phone with them, it was reported to me that a friend of mine—Hi Terri!—has started a “group” on Facebook, devoted to getting me to sign up. (Is “group” the right word?) She’s apparently gotten 23 people in this group, including people that I don’t know.

You can create all the groups you want, people, I’m not joining. Heh.

I had to hang up the phone with them, though, so that I could come to work, since I have to pull another all-nighter tonight. Which is where I was when I typed this.